


Thank You, Turnbull

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Christmas, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-29
Updated: 2000-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-10 06:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11121318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Joining Fraser for a toast to the Queen, Ray gets his Christmas wish.





	Thank You, Turnbull

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
     Title:  Thank You, Turnbull   
     Author:  Aislinn
     Pairing:  Fraser/Kowalski
     Rating:  NC-17
     Feedback:  Absolutely.  Good or bad at 
    
    Major kudos are owed to my betas:  JenAsayKwa, Tara Blue, Kim Lowe, and
    Rowan Fairchild, who made sure this wasn't a POV nightmare and put an
    immediate halt to my tendency to put commas after every other word --and
    that was just the first paragraph.  Thanks, guys. 
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    "To the Queen!" the voices rang out.  "To the Queen."  
     
    Thatcher, Turnbull and Fraser shared a smile while Kowalski rolled his
    eyes heavenward.  He wanted nothing more than to get out of here.  It
    was Christmas Eve and he had swung by the Consulate to pick up Fraser
    for the Christmas party at the 2-7.  Instead, what he got was three twisted
    Mounties toasting anything and everything to the Queen.  
    
    He sniffed the eggnog Turnbull had handed him upon entering the Ice Queen's
    office.  Yep.  Rum.  Quite a bit of it in fact.  They weren't just toasting,
    they were getting toasted.  Jeez.  "I thought Mounties didn't drink alcohol,
    Fraser," Ray said, looking into his friend's eyes.  
    Fraser met his gaze and smiled.  "But, Ray, it's to the Queen."  Like
    it should make perfect sense.  Probably did to him.  Freak. 
    
    Ray searched the Mountie's face, but other than a slight softening of
    his features and an odd inclination to smile goofily at him, he didn't
    see any telltale signs of inebriation.  'Course, maybe Big Red was the
    type not to show his drunkenness until he took a step and tripped over
    the dust motes.  
    
    Ray sighed.  He'd find out soon enough.  Soon as he figured out a way
    to end this little happyfest they had goin' and bug out.  He watched
    Thatcher and Turnbull as they walked over to the bar to refill their
    glasses.  
    
    Ray glanced at Fraser, ready to make some excuse as to why they couldn't
    stick around for another round of toasting the Queen's pantyhose, and
    froze.  The intensity in his eyes as Fraser watched him nearly made him
    take a step back.  There was a longing in them that Ray was sure he had
    never been allowed to see before, and it made him want to wrap his arms
    around the man and tell him it would be all right.  
    
    He took that step back.  This was not the place to be thinking those
    thoughts.  Not the place, not the time, but the look.... that look said
    maybe he wasn't alone in his thoughts.... and then it was gone from Fraser's
    blue eyes.  Gone so fast Ray had to blink, but he knew he'd seen something
    he wouldn't have otherwise, and Ray had a sudden insight that maybe this
    was why Fraser didn't drink.  The Mountie mask slipped, Fraser couldn't
    keep it up under the influence.  Whoa.   
    
    Ray raised his glass of eggnog with a less than steady hand and took
    a gulp.  And gagged.  Fuck.  The damn drink had to be half rum.  He started
    to cough as the alcohol burned a path down his throat.  It felt like
    his chest was on fire.  He bent over double trying to catch his breath
    as he felt someone pounding on his back. 
    
    "Ray, Ray, RAY!  Are you all right?"  Fraser took hold of Ray's arm to
    keep him on his feet as another fit of coughing wracked his body. 
    
    "Yeah, Frase.  Just gimme a sec, huh?  Didn't know ya just put the eggnog
    in fer color.  Jeez, warn a guy next time, huh?"  Ray straightened slowly,
    his vision clearing somewhat to see Thatcher and Turnbull looking at
    him with bemused expressions from across the room.  Turnbull made a comment
    to the Inspector that he couldn't hear, which was probably just as well.
    They both turned away to hide the grins that were spreading quickly across
    their faces. 
    
    "Ray?  Are you all right?  Would you like to sit down?"  It was only
    then he realized that Fraser was still holding his arm even though it
    was no longer strictly necessary. 
    
    Ray looked up and saw the concern in his eyes.  "Nah, Frase, I'm good."
    He patted the hand holding his arm without thinking.  "I'm good." 
    
    He heard Fraser's quick intake of breath and felt a gentle increase in
    pressure in the grip on his arm, the concerned look in his eyes giving
    way to something else.  Something more -- aware?  
    
    *Shit, Kowalski.  Get a grip fer Chrissakes; this is *Fraser,* remember?*
    Had to be his addled senses playing tricks, but Fraser didn't let go
    of him, and he found himself holding very still, not wanting the moment
    to end. 
    
    Ray looked away first.  He had to get them out of there.  Now.  "Okey
    dokey, folks.  Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and all that, we're outta
    here. Places to go, life to live, boredom to overcome."  He grabbed Fraser's
    glass and set it on Thatcher's desk, then herded Fraser out the door
    and down the hall to his own office to get his coat.  Fraser was trying
    to say goodbye and happy holidays while Ray was pushing him from behind
    with all his might.  "Come *on*, Fraser.  Let's *go*." 
    
    "All right, Ray, all right."  Fraser let himself be propelled into his
    office.  
    
    Ray watched as he went behind his desk and -- What the hell is he doing
    *now?*  Wrapping something?  What the hell is that?  Looks furry.  He
    walked closer to get a better look. It didn't help. 
    
    "What the hell is that Fraser?"
    
    "This is my gift to Lieutenant Welsh.  I drew his name for the 'Secret
    Santa.'" 
    
    "Yeah, fine, whatever, that ain't what I asked."  Ray took another step
    closer to the desk and stuck out a finger, pointing at, but not touching,
    the item that was nearly wrapped.  "I wanna know what that *thing* is
    that yer wrapping." 
    
    "Oh.  Well, this is something I picked up the last time I was home. 
    The Inuit believe, Ray, that by displaying one of these over your bed
    ---"  What promised to be another long story was cut short by Turnbull
    quietly knocking on Fraser's open door. 
    
    "Constable Fraser," Turnbull whispered in his earnest voice.  "Inspector
    Thatcher has had too much... that is to say, she's been, um.... well,
    Sir, she's a little, er..."  Turnbull stopped, a pained expression on
    his face.  There was just no Canadian way to put it. 
    
    "Plowed," Ray supplied helpfully with a smirk that got him *that* look
    from Fraser. 
    
    "Ray."  Disappointment.
    
    "Snockered..."
    
    "Ray."  Irritation.  Thumb across the eyebrow.
    
    "Loaded, hammered..."
    
    "Ray, Ray."  Volume rising.  
    
    "Smashed, stinko, polluted, bombed off her fu---"
    
    "RAY!"  Fraser was staring at him like he had lost his mind, but there
    was a sly look in his eyes that told him Fraser was trying hard not to
    laugh.  Turnbull, on the other hand, looked like he was about to stroke
    out, his mouth opening and closing like a carp going for food. 
    
    Fraser reached out a steadying hand and put it on Turnbull's shoulder.
    "Is the Inspector feeling a bit under the weather, Constable?"  
    
    Ray snorted inelegantly.  So there was a Canadian way to say it after
    all. 
    
    Turnbull sighed in relief, ignoring Ray completely.  "Yes, Sir.  Yes,
    she is -- er -- feeling under the weather, and I have offered to escort
    her home in a cab." 
    
    "Really, Constable Turnbull, Ray and I would be happy to drive you and
    the Inspector home, isn't that right, Ray?"  
    
    Ray leaned against the desk and sighed.  "Happy to."  Yeah, right.  Turnbull
    and Thatcher in *his* car.  And I'll have a side of root canal with that
    please.  Hold the novocain. 
    
    "Thank you, Constable Fraser, Detective Vecchio, but I've already taken
    the liberty of calling the taxi service.  They should be --"  Turnbull
    was cut off as the Ice Queen appeared out of nowhere, put her arms around
    his neck and pulled him down so her mouth was brushing his ear.  She
    whispered something to him and Ray watched as Turnbull turned redder
    than the serge he was wearing. 
    
    "Um, it would seem that the cab is here,"  Turnbull choked out.  He looked
    about ready to explode.  Ray glanced over at Fraser and caught the gleam
    in his eyes.  He turned away before he lost it.  
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    Ray stayed in the office while Fraser helped Turnbull get the Ice Queen
    out to the cab.  He was leaning against the desk facing the doorway when
    Fraser reappeared, a huge smile on his face. 
    
    Ray stared.  The man had an incredible enough smile to begin with, but
    tonight, with a little help from the rum fairy perhaps, that smile was
    hitting his eyes like he had never seen before.  All the politeness was
    gone.  It was just Benton Fraser.  Not Saint SuperMountie or Clueless
    Mountie - no Mountie there at all, in fact, not even the uniform.  He
    was dressed in his "civilian" clothes tonight; jeans, dark blue T-shirt
    and brown leather jacket.  He was beautiful. 
    
    Christ, here we go again.  Snap out of it, Kowalski.  He looked away,
    something above the door catching his eye.  "What's that?" he asked,
    pointing up.  
    
    "Oh. That's uh..." Fraser ran a knuckle across his eyebrow. "That's mistletoe,
    Ray.  Constable Turnbull put some of it up in all the doorways.  He thought
    it would encourage...camaraderie, and a feeling of goodwill among the
    guests at last night's dinner party."  Reaching up, he began to take
    it down. 
    
    "Yeah?  So?  Did ya get any, uh, feelings of goodwill?"  Ray gave a quick
    smile.  "You know what it's for, right?" 
    
    "Yes, Ray.  I know what it's for," Fraser said dryly.  Ray was surprised
    to hear the sarcastic tone in his voice.  "And after being caught under
    it twice with the ambassador's wife, I stopped going through doorways."
    Said with a flat voice and a straight face, but if Ray didn't know better
    he'd swear he was being teased.  *Fraser* was *teasing* him?  Why did
    that go straight to his gut?  Make him feel like he was on the edge of
    something?  Ah, hell.  Ya only live once right?  Time to see if he could
    fly. 
    
    He took a breath, walked over to Fraser and stopped.  Ray put his hands
    on the other man's shoulders. "Well, if ya know what it's for, then what
    are ya doin' standin' under it?  I'm bound by tradition here, Fraser,"
    he joked.  He had to give Fraser a way out, if that's what he wanted.
    No hard feelings, we'll know where we stand:  You turn me on and I repulse
    you, you'll hate me, probably clock me and take a transfer and-- ohshit!
    What did I just do?  What the fuck was I thinking?  This is the *Mountie*
    for chrissakes.  Ray mentally kicked himself and started to take a step
    backwards, to shake it off, to deflect it. 
    
    To do anything he had to, to make the Mountie think he hadn't just been
    propositioned by his own partner. 
    
    "I was hoping you would be the traditional type, Ray."  Blue eyes pinning
    his own.   
    
    Ray froze.  His heart dropped to his knees, which suddenly didn't feel
    as though they would support him anymore.  He leaned in closer to Fraser,
    his mouth so close he could feel warm breath on his face.  Funny.  He
    should smell more like alcohol and less like - like heaven.  God, he
    smelled wonderful. Like eggnog and Christmas and leather and fresh snow
    and - and - Fraser. 
    
    "Ray?"   
    
    "Yeah?"
    
    "Please."
    
    "God, yeah."  Ray closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, pressing
    his lips to Fraser's.  Softly at first.  Testing.  Ray tilted his head
    a bit to get a better angle and brushed up against him.  Fraser moaned
    and leaned into the kiss, putting his arms around Ray and pulling him
    closer.  Ray heard the sound and felt the kiss deepening and did the
    most difficult thing he had ever done in his life:  He pulled back. 
    
    "Hold it, Fraser.  You been drinkin' and, uh, as much as I, uh, might
    be likin' this, it ain't right.  You ain't yerself tonight and I can't
    do this to my best friend.  It ain't right," Ray repeated, backing out
    of Fraser's embrace.  
    
    He turned away.
    
    "Ray."
    
    Walked back to the desk.
    
    "Ray."
    
    Picked up his keys and his jacket and tried to get past his partner at
    the door. 
    
    "Ray.  Ray.  Ray.  RAY."  Fraser grabbed his wrist and wouldn't let him
    pass.  "Ray, I haven't been drinking." 
    
    "Huh?"  
    
    "When I made the eggnog, I poured myself a glass before Inspector Thatcher
    added the rum.  I have had no alcohol tonight." 
    
    No alcohol?  Ray was confused.  "What're ya talkin' about, Fraser?  Ya
    seemed pretty loopy to me when I got here tonight." 
    
    "I was merely in a good mood, Ray.  Inspector Thatcher will be leaving
    tomorrow for her quarterly sojourn at the spa and will not return until
    the New Year, Turnbull has volunteered to work tomorrow, and I have the
    weekend off.  Plus, there is the party at the precinct with you."  Fraser
    smiled. 
    
    Ray felt the hand on his wrist tighten just a bit.  Okay, so if Fraser
    says he hasn't been drinking, then he hasn't been drinking.  Period.
    So he's been doing all this with a clear mind?  Meaning he wanted to
    do this?  Meaning he planned this?  Meant to stand there in the doorway
    til Ray got a clue?  Made no sense.  *Fraser wants me?* 
    
    "Yes."
    
    Oh shit, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.  He shook his head. 
    
    "Yes, Ray.  I want you."
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    
    All thoughts of leaving fled.  Ray moaned and moved into him, taking
    him by the back of the neck and pulling Fraser's face to his.  The mouth
    that met his halfway was open and ready.  A tongue pushed its way into
    Ray's mouth with an urgency that surprised them both, exploring every
    millimeter it could reach.  Ray had never felt anything so erotic before.
    Fraser was *kissing* him.  Sticking his tongue halfway down his throat.
    He was serious about this.  He wanted him.  Oh *God*.  
    
    Ray felt himself harden instantly as the realization hit him full force,
    and he pushed Fraser against the doorjamb.  He rubbed himself against
    Fraser's hip and was rewarded with a growl that started deep in his partner's
    throat.  Fraser put his arms around Ray and pulled him in as close as
    he could get him.  Ray could feel the other man's erection through his
    jeans, and he moaned again.  
    
    Fraser thrust his hips up into Ray, and Ray rocked his hips back in response.
    They ended the kiss breathlessly, and Ray put his forehead on Ben's shoulder.
    
    "Oh, God, Fraser.  You feel so good."  He tucked his face into the side
    of the other man's neck and breathed in deeply.  His skin really did
    smell like fresh snow.  And the leather.  Christ.  His hips pushed into
    Ben again.  And again.  Ben tightened his grip on Ray and positioned
    himself so that their erections were hitting one another.  
    
    Ray looked up and caught his breath.  Eyes, usually so blue, were now
    dark with passion.  Passion for him?  *Fucking* amazing.  Ray put his
    mouth down hard on Ben's, suddenly wanting to give up all control and
    just go with the flow.  Ben answered by devouring his mouth; running
    his tongue along his teeth, sucking his tongue, biting his lips.  Ray
    was lost in all the sensations, drowning in them.  He no longer had any
    control over his body and pounded rhythmically into the other man.  He
    was getting close when Ben grabbed him by the hips and stilled his movements.
    
    Ray looked up, slowly coming back to himself.  "What's wrong, Frase?
    Change yer mind?"   He was sure he would die if the answer was yes. 
    
    "No, Ray.  I just don't want it to be over so quickly."  
     
    Ray ducked his head and blushed.  "Sorry."
     
    "No, Ray.  You misunderstand."  Ben looked down at the floor.  "I don't
    want it to be over before I -- before I get a chance to taste you." 
    
    Ray fell back against the opposite jamb, his legs no longer working properly.
    "Aw jeez.  You gotta warn a guy before ya say somethin' like that.  You
    nearly just wrecked yer plans there."  
    
    It took Ben a moment, but Ray could tell the instant he got it; his eyes
    got wide with understanding and a blush crept up his neck, but he didn't
    look away.  Stood staring at him with a look Ray couldn't read, then
    with a look he *could* read, and it stopped his heart cold before spinning
    it into overdrive.  Ben closed the space between them and knelt down,
    lightly running his hand along the front of Ray's jeans, barely touching
    him.  
    
    Ray shuddered.  "Fraser."
     
    Ben looked up and met his eyes.  Then reached up and undid his jeans,
    never breaking eye contact.  He unzipped the pants and pulled them over
    Ray's hips and down his thighs.  Ray's cock strained at his boxer briefs,
    the front of them wet with precum.  Ben leaned in, rubbing his face against
    his covered erection and breathing in.   
    
    *Oh Christ, he's getting my scent.*  Ray wasn't sure why that turned
    him on as much as it did, but he felt himself get even harder at the
    thought.  
    
    Ben pulled his shorts down and just looked at him for a moment.  Ray
    had begun to get uncomfortable under the scrutiny when Ben looked up
    at him and whispered, "You're beautiful, Ray."  
    
    Ray felt on the edge of hysteria.  This man.  This beautiful, perfect,
    infuriating, incredible man who could have any woman, or man for that
    matter, thought *he* was beautiful?  Scrawny, skinny-assed, undernourished
    Stanley Raymond Kowalski?  Beautiful?  What planet was he from?  He *was*
    unhinged. 
    
    Ben seemed to sense the panic rising within Ray.  He snaked an arm around
    Ray's hips and held him in place while bringing the other hand up to
    take hold of Ray's cock.  He began a slow, steady, pumping rhythm that
    relaxed Ray and once again brought him to that place where control was
    given over to sensation.  Ray glanced down to see Ben watching him. 
    When he was sure Ray was paying attention, he lowered his mouth over
    the straining cock, never once moving his eyes  away.  Ray could tell
    by the look in Ben's eyes that he knew what he was doing -- that he *wanted*
    to do this.  
    
    Ray had to clench his hands tightly into fists to keep from losing it
    right then.  He got the message Ben was sending.  Loud and clear.  His
    body got it, too, and it took all the control he had not to grab the
    man by the hair and fuck that hot, wet, wonderful mouth.  Talented mouth.
    
    Ben was circling his tongue over the head of his cock and running it
    along the slit, his hand pumping him fast and hard.  He began moving
    his mouth up and down the shaft in tandem with his hand.  Ray watched
    his head move back and forth, the light shining softly on his dark hair.
    
    Ray reached down with one hand and stroked the dark curls, curling his
    fingers into them as he moaned loudly.  He wouldn't last.  
    Ben removed his mouth but kept his hand moving.  He met Ray's eyes. 
    
    "Come for me, Ray," he whispered.  
    
    And he did.  Harder than he ever had before; his hips jerked, his back
    arched, and suddenly he was spilling over into Ben's hand, only coming
    back to himself when he felt Ben's mouth return to his cock, tongue swirling,
    licking fucking *everywhere,* letting nothing get away from him.  Ray
    watched in fascination until he was through, thanking God for Ben's oral
    fixations. 
    
    Ray was spent.  His legs could no longer hold his weight, and he slipped
    bonelessly down the doorjamb to his knees.  Ben held him in his arms.
    Kissed his neck and face, then his lips.  Ray could taste himself.  Ben
    made sure of it, sliding his tongue into Ray's mouth, then sucking Ray's
    tongue back into his own.  At the same time, Ben rubbed himself up against
    Ray.  
    
    "Whaddaya want, Frase?  Anything ya want.  Tell me," Ray mumbled against
    his mouth.  
    
    Ben pulled back and looked at him.  "Lie down, Ray.  Please."
     
    Ray lay down on his back on the floor, hands behind his head, watching
    Ben.  Watching Ben watch him.  God, the look in his eyes.  He could feel
    his cock stirring again already.  
    
    Ben put his hands on his jeans and unbuttoned them, slipping both jeans
    and boxers down his thighs in one smooth motion.  His cock looked painfully
    hard and jutted straight out from his body.  He stayed where he was for
    a moment, letting the other man look at him.    
    
    "Ben," Ray barely breathed.  
     
    A smile that could power Canada lit up Ben's face and he fell on top
    of Ray, capturing his mouth and taking his breath away.  Ray felt himself
    harden further as Ben rubbed his cock, hot, hard and weeping with need,
    against his.  The knowledge that he had such an effect on Ben wasn't
    lost on Ray, but now wasn't the time for hearts and flowers.  More important
    things to focus on, like Ben rocking hard against him, lips on his, brutal
    and crushing, tongue probing and insistent in his mouth, taking what
    it wanted, what it *needed.* 
    
    Ray pulled his mouth away, gasping for breath as Ben moved his lips to
    Ray's ear, trailing kisses along the way. 
    
    "God, I've dreamt about this, Ray."  The words came out raggedly, all
    in a rush.  "I've wanted this for so long."  Ben buried his face in Ray's
    neck and wrapped an arm around his back.   
    
    "Wanted you so bad, Ben.  Want this.  Want you."  Ray reached up and
    brought Ben's mouth to his, leaving no room for doubt that his words
    were true. 
    
    Ben rose up, supporting his weight on his hands and increased the speed,
    Ray matching him thrust for thrust, faster and harder, until it was all
    just too much, and with a strangled cry, Ben came, shuddering, painting
    both their stomachs with his semen.  Ray reached down between them and
    grabbed his own cock, jerking on it roughly, and quickly joined Ben with
    his second orgasm.   
    
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     
    Ray wasn't ready to lose the warm body sprawled over top of his, and
    put both arms around Ben to hold him in place when Ben made to move off
    him.  "Don't go, Frase.  Like ya like this."    
    
    Ben stilled.  He raised his head enough to kiss Ray softly on the side
    of the mouth.  "I'm not going anywhere, Ray," he said seriously.  
    
    "So, uh, um.  This ain't just a, uh, one time thing?"
     
    "Not if I have anything to say about it."
     
    "Oh.  Well, good.  That's good."  Ray couldn't stop a stupid grin from
    spreading across his face.  
    
    Ben kissed Ray again.  "Is it mandatory that we go to this party?"  He
    flicked his tongue out, running it along his lip.  
    
    Ray looked at him.  Cocked his head.  "Nooo," he said slowly.  "It's
    not mandatory that we go.  Why?  You got somethin' else in mind, Fraser?"
    He lifted his hips up into Ben's, rubbing their softened cocks together.
    
    Ben actually blushed.  Ray was amazed.  After what they had just done,
    Ben could still blush at a mere suggestion.  Wild.  
    
    "I just thought that maybe this would be more comfortable on a couch,"
    Ben avoided his eyes, "or in a bed."  
    
    Ray laughed, he couldn't help it.  The Mountie was priceless.  Ben looked
    down quickly, worry and panic showing in his eyes.  Ray stopped laughing.
    
    "No, Ben.  I wasn't - you are - mmpph."  He started over.  "Yer such
    a contra --, conter --, ya got such opposite sides to ya, Ben.  Ya kiss
    me like yer trying ta remove my tonsils through suction and ya take me
    on the floor of yer Consulate, but yer shy about sayin' you wanna take
    me home and doin' this in a bed.  I can't figger you out, Mountie, but
    I think I'm gonna have fun tryin'."  Ray gave him a soft smile and lifted
    his head to kiss him, holding Ben's face in his hands.  
    
    Ben tucked his head into Ray's neck and took a deep shuddering breath.
    
    "I love you, Ray."  
    
    "Yeah.  Yeah, Ben.  Me too.  I love you, too."  Ray kissed Ben's forehead.
    
    "Let's go home.  And bring that mistletoe with ya," he said as they stood
    up and rearranged clothing, not caring that they were both a sticky mess.
    
    Ben chuckled.  "I'll have to remember to thank Turnbull on Monday for
    putting it up in the first place.  The man does have his uses, I must
    admit."  
    
    "Think he made it home in one piece?"  Ray smirked.  "The Ice Queen was
    all over him." 
    
    The horrified look he got from Ben was priceless, and they both laughed
    out loud until Ben leaned over to kiss Ray one last time, before turning
    out the lights and closing the door behind them. 
    
    ~~~fin~~~
    
    


End file.
